


Translation for The Old Days

by beautywind, Kairu_KitsuneO



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale uses She/Her Pronoun for God, Heavy Angst, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Memory Loss, Memory Related Dream, Past, Translation, Translation in English
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 22:51:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20265799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautywind/pseuds/beautywind, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairu_KitsuneO/pseuds/Kairu_KitsuneO
Summary: An english translation fic forThe Old DaysbybeautywindSummary:Headcanon for the Great Heaven War.It’s a story about the ancient past fragments which both Aziraphale and Crowley have forgotten.





	Translation for The Old Days

Aziraphale has the same dream recently. It is strange because angels never need to sleep. Not to mention that dreams are made by human beings with free will, to weave their dreams and fears in their imagination. Angels have always been bystanders in their dreams.

The time when Aziraphale began his integration into the human world is unspecified, but since then he had been observing humans’ life and changing his routine to fit in the society. When he fell asleep and woke up at dawn for the first time, Aziraphale was so excited that he couldn’t sleep for the following week. His sleep-dreaming only fully developed after a century. At first it was more of a memory reviewing, unlike the dream that humans make, which are full of magical and wonders, or sometimes with unpredictable stuff that is beyond imagination. Aziraphale’s dreams act as a reminder of the past, he has to say that Crowley is always in every dream he had, many consist of the bits and pieces of their time together. However there is one single memory that Aziraphale doesn’t remember.

_ The sky was burning in red. There was howling of war horns and clashing of swords. One flap of wings could whirl up a vortex of heatwave, making him harder to breathe. Is this how Amargeddon would look like if it happens? No, this doesn’t look like it. Both sides had a pair of pure white wings. The rebel leader was the Darling of God, the Bright Star, and the Son of the Morning. His ineffable beauty was blinding. _

_ That was the first Heaven war. Ever since that day, the heavens split into two separated polars, Heaven and Hell, incompatible to each other as water and fire. _

Aziraphale wakes up in a cold sweat. The Grandfather clock’s melodious chime echoes around the quiet shop, alarming the start of the day. Yet, he doesn’t want to open the door because that annoying dream he had is worrying.

The bookshop is closed today.

Crowley sits in his Bentley which he parked opposite the bookshop, he simply watches, hesitated to knock at the uninviting door.

He has his doubts on telling Aziraphale about this, a recurring dream he had lately. This is rare because he had slept through most of the 19th Century without a dream. Except for 1832 when he had to go to the lavatory. He has always been proud of his dreamless sleep, but now he is troubled by this human problem.

At first he thought that Hell is messing with him. Though he didn't expect those guys with limited imagination could come up with such epic stories, with a familiar sense of bittersweet, loss and despair.

It’s not so much of a dream, to be precise, it’s more like looking back at a distant memory. However he has no recollection of it at all. There is an invisible force blocking him from recalling the whole process of falling from Heaven. He only remembers that he has made some wrong friends, and the next thing he knew, punishment befalls him like he was slipping down on a slippery slide helplessly.

Deep down, Crowley always had a feeling that he was forgetting something. That part of his memory is extraordinarily vague and unfamiliar to him. As if someone has used the Neuralyzer from <Man in Black> on him, sealed the truth and casually made up a story for him to remember.

But Crowley thinks it’s stupid to let a weird dream interferes with their entire plan later on. So he decides to forget about it. He gets out of his car and prepared himself to take his dear angel out for a date.

They have dinner together, hold hands and kiss in the park. At night, Crowley stays over at Aziraphale’s. The space on the small bed is a little too crowded for Crowley to sleep comfortably, nevertheless, he is quite contented to sleep with his angel.

Then, the dream he disregarded has come back to him, as if it is mocking at his cowardy to face it. Finally, it uncovers the last veil to the truth.

_ It is when he was fallen. _

_ His bad friends were defeated and fallen one by one. The stench of their wings being scorched and charcoaled made Crowley frowned. He never wanted to be a part of these. He was just passing by that afternoon. _

_ And when God's grace didn’t bless him, he was destined to be unforgivable for the rest of his life. _

_ He was falling fast, combusting like an overweight meteor. _

_ However, the one who was truly burning wasn’t him, but the other man was. _

_ Three pairs of wings carefully wrapped him like a blanket, protecting him from any harm. The smell of burnt spread from the other side, the tip of the man’s creamy white hair was caught in fire too. _

_ Crowley heard himself screaming fanatically, demanding the other to let go. However the stubborn man turned a deaf ear to his words, it’s true, the said man smilingly stated that the fire did in fact deafened his ears so he couldn’t hear him. _

_ Pale wings continued to ablaze in the unforgiving flames. Many burnt feathers dropped and scattered all over Crowley’s face. He couldn’t see clearly, desperately brushing away the blackened feathers. As he finally focused his eyes to look, what he saw was a familiar face he’d known from a long time ago. _

** _How could he be?_ **

_ Waves of memories swarm in like tsunami in an instant, revealing his younger days on the Heavens; Crowley stood beside his old friend, counting the eyes covered his friend’s body; When Metatron was having another one of those philosophy lessons, Crowley was sleeping under a tree to skip class. It was his best friend who kindly woke him up. However, he refused to go and even tempted his friend to take a nap together. Of course they were lectured later that day. _

_ The face in these memories overlapped with the one with him now, Crowley heard himself always fondly calling out that man’s name. And the said man will always greet him with a gentle smile. _

That was the only soothing fun he had in those boring days in heaven. How could he not remember about them?

How could he forget about the person who once held him so tightly when they fell together, who didn’t forget to comfort him during the whole burning process despite that his own body was going to disintegrate soon.

If this is just a dream, why did he feel such deep sorrow? That shudders of agony was scalding on his soul, as if he had personally experienced it.

He can’t wake up.

Aziraphale is making the same dream as well. But this time it is more real, more critical and hotter.

_ The sky wasn’t burning anymore, but he was. _

_ He was embracing his old friend. And they were descending from the sky. _

_ His clothing was covered in red flames. His hair and wings too. There was no birth of Earth at that time, so he didn’t know where would he land. After crossing Cloud Nine, what awaits him was an endless silent and nothingness. But one thing was certain, he didn’t regret it. _

_ His six wings began to burn as they were free-falling swiftly, like a falling meteor dragging its long, self-destructing tail and glowing in golden flames. If he could see, he would hold his breath for such breathtaking view. But right now he couldn't, he couldn’t see anymore. Every eye of his, on his wings, face, and body was engulfed by the flames. Blinded, he couldn’t even see who he was protecting. The other man’s desperate screaming was in vain, his crying voice broke under the impact of high-speed currents. His burning ears were bleeding. _

_ If God is still willing to give him a chance, Aziraphale thought, he made a wish - a preposterous wish - he hoped to see his old friend again. _

_ When he woke up again, he has lost most of his memories. Gabriel told him that God has assigned him to guard the Eastern Gate, and also issued him a flaming sword. _

_ The amnesia angel asked if the war is over? Gabriel said that he had missed it, and obviously they have won. Heavens always prevail. Those despicable rebels are deserved to be trapped down below the land and suffered for eternal. _

_ He simply nodded, not suspecting any odds. Although his heart felt empty, as if there was a missing piece in him. _

_ Aziraphale had a feeling that he has lost something important, what was it? Was it a part of his lost memories? Or was it that important someone in his life? Who was this person? _

_ He couldn’t remember. _

_ Aziraphale only understood that he wasn’t allowed to speculate God’s will or openly ask any questions. So he kept quiet and accepted his new task. _

Now, the dream has put the missing piece of the puzzle together, the truth has finally come into the light.

They rise in full awake at the same time.

They gasp for their breath in shock. And then they shout out each other’s name, one in bloody rage while the other with full of surprises.

“Are you nuts, Aziraphale? What were you thinking when you fall with me? Look at you, all of your wings were burnt away!” Crowley yells, no longer suppressing his feelings. He’d rather have his wings melt away than have Aziraphale losing a feather.

He finally understood the reason why he wasn’t falling rapidly like his other friends did, it’s all because of a certain person who was hugging him tightly to slow down the fall.

Fool, how can someone be this stupid?

“Not all of them, I still have a pair!” Aziraphale believes that the Almighty is actually kind. Although he can’t remember how badly wounded was he or what happened that day, the only one who could save him from dying, was none other than God Herself.

Besides, God did grant his wish, didn’t She? Although he can’t remember much, judging from Crowley’s overreaction, he has understood it all as clear as day. His wish to meet his old friend again from his dream, has become true.

“But your eyes…” Crowely chokes in pain. Those flames should have been his to bear.

“Not sure why I needed so many eyes for? Right now, I can still use this pair of eyes! Thank the Almighty,” Aziraphale smiles, raises his hand and gently wipes Crowley’s sweaty forehead, trying to comfort the demon. That had happened a long time ago, plus, they don’t actually remember much, why not let bygones be bygones?

“Stop thanking Her. She shouldn’t do this to you,“ Crowley’s voice trembles in tiredness. He shakily takes hold of the angel’s hand and lightly rub them against his cheeks, like a world-class violinist carefully stroking his cherished instrument.

“Hey, hey…… look at me, Crowley. It hasn’t changed a bit. We still found each other, didn’t we?” Aziraphale unusually takes the first step to hug him. The man’s body temperature has gone cold from the panic attack. The angel promises to not let go of him until his warmth has returned to normal.

In the dream, he doesn't know if he has loosen his grip on Crowley at the end of his burning. But today he sure is not letting him go.

Crowley inhales the faint scent of shampoo on Aziraphale’s neck. His mushy dark yellow eyes has reverted to golden eyes. After he has calmed down with the white of his eyes showing, he returns the hug. The demon delicately caresses the angel’s back and softly asks, “Does it still hurts?”

His tone is as fragile as glass, like an acrobat who tries to balance on a thin rope, at any time he will fall and shatter because of a little external force.

Aziraphale simply denies it with a smiling voice, full of calmness and heart-warming gentleness. After all, he can no longer remember that past, only to recall them in his dream. This feels like he is simply a bystander, watching other people’s stories. He doesn’t feel any pain or sadness, rather, he feels happiness. Even if they have been separated before, they eventually found each other, and walk together once more.

Is there anything better than to be lost and found again?

“I don’t understand what’s God planning, heavily injured a Cherub but then dismiss the effect of his fall; while I'm completely undamaged with my wings turning black as punishment. I really don't understand......” Crowley sadly complains, burying his face into the angel's neck.

“Crowley, it’s best not to speculate.”

So both of them stay quiet, savouring every steady feeling of having each other again after an awful nightmare, until the angel breaks the silence with his gentle singing voice, and Crowley softly matches him. Two voices blend together ingeniously, as if the black and the white are one at the beginning, it is harmonious.

**Author's Note:**

> Occasionally I want to see a badass angel so I wrote this fic.  
  
Today’s conversation with my friend, she said she wanted to see the angel’s and the demon’s war injuries. And I agreed.  
Friend: “ Is a crying, hurt angel better, or a badass, hurt angel?”  
Me: “The former is cute, the latter is handsome.”  
Friend:” Oh well. For the former, he could possibly cry because he is hurt by papercut. (Crowley’s angry big eyes stares at the book)  
Me: "Ahahaha OMG, crying because of papercut, but being badass when injured in the battle, this contrast is valid! "  

> 
> I think it’s romantic for the angel to sacrificing his six wings and eyes to save his old serpent. Although right now he is a big baby who cries because of papercut (Stop spreading rumours!)
> 
> By Author beautywind  
++++++++++++++++++++++
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos and Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Was listening to [Good Omens | Hallelujah](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7HB0nvrFp84) while translating. Hope you enjoy the video as well! 
> 
> Please do kudos the [original fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20191354) too ❤❤ The author is amazing!
> 
> By Translator Kairu_KitsuneO


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